


cut through the clouds, break the ceiling

by orphan_account



Category: Monster Factory - Polygon (Web Series), Touch the Skyrim (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 05:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Pam wanders all known universes. She makes and unmakes as she goes; she watches patiently as worlds are born and she is the last one standing as stars go out. She watches and she waits and she is eternal, ever present, alone among the wreck – until she isn't anymore.





	cut through the clouds, break the ceiling

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.
> 
> Title from "Cut to the Feeling" by Our Lord and Savior Carly Rae Jepsen.
> 
> Edit 8/4/17: orphaning this in response to the allegations re: Nick

Pam wanders all known universes. She makes and unmakes as she goes; she watches patiently as worlds are born and she is the last one standing as stars go out. She watches and she waits and she is eternal, ever present, alone among the wreck, until she isn't anymore.

It happens after she ends up on a world that’s – well, honestly, fairly uninspired. Rocks and trees and castles and a few flying trains, nothing too off the beaten path. It’s honestly pretty easy to destroy, and fun to boot; she’s caused the fabric of its reality to collapse and reshape itself more than a few times before she starts to grow weary of the bears and skeletons and wooden sailing ships. She’s about to unmake reality for the final time, when one of the wearying sailing ships shows up and  _ someone  _ on the ship has the  _ audacity  _ to tell her no.

Pam has never before been acquainted with the word “no.”

“Hey dude,” the person says, “can you like … not do that, maybe?”

Pam, recently acquainted with the word “no,” decides that she is not a fan.

“You are not metal husband,” Pam says, annoyed, because the orc woman in front of her is admirably strong and uncharacteristically beautiful for an orc and absolutely, definitely,  _ not  _ metal husband. Pam does not take suggestions from anyone except metal husband. She doesn’t usually  _ take  _ them from metal husband, either, but she at least considers them.

In response, the woman just fixes her with an aloof and all-knowing stare.

Pam hates it. Pam is pretty sure that being aloof and all-knowing is _her_ thing, thank you very much, and she doesn't appreciate some upstart in skimpy body armor using her own tricks against her. 

So Pam tries to kill her. And for the first time in Pam’s existence, it doesn't work out.

“Come on, dude, no murder,” the woman says testily, “not on the party ship.”

If Pam is being fully honest, the ship doesn't exactly look like much of a party. Mostly it's just a regular ship, except for the dozens and dozens of horrible blue creatures which are dancing endlessly, exhausted, faces fixed in a permanent grimace.

“Ship not look like fun party,” Pam says, because Pam prides herself on being honest above all else. 

“I didn't say it was a  _ fun _ party,” the woman says, “I just said it was  _ a _ party. Whether or not my acolytes choose to have fun is totally up to them.”

Pam looks over at the blue creatures. One of them appears to be crying.

Pam can respect that.

“Pam respect that,” she says, because of the aforementioned honesty, and just to introduce herself. This woman is clearly a force to be reckoned with.

“Susan Crushbone,” she says in return, and hands Pam a joint.

Pam takes it. Pam lights it on fire with her mind.

Pam proceeds to have a thoroughly good time.

“Party ship not so bad,” she admits several hours later. “Pam understand appeal.”

“Hell yeah, my dude,” Susan says, “Partying is totally like, my whole thing.”

“What is thing?” Pam asks, confused and starting to become annoyed again. “Explain to Pam.”

“Yeah so, I guess you could call me a goddess,” Susan says. “So i've decided to use my powers to like, just make sure people have a fun time and stuff.”

This makes sense to Pam. She understands what it's like to have a higher purpose, and she also understands what it's like to  _ be  _ a higher purpose.

“Pam’s thing destruction,” she tells Susan proudly. 

Susan blinks at her. 

“Alright, yeah,” she says after a moment, “I guess that sounds pretty dope too.”

“I make and unmake worlds upon worlds,” Pam says. “I am harbinger of doom and bringer of pain and torment.”

“Cool, cool,” Susan says, “again, just like, not on the party ship, okay dude?”

“ _Y_ _ es _ on party ship,” Pam says, because she likes Susan, she really does, but she's starting to get bored and besides,  _ nobody  _ tells her what to do, especially not upstart goddesses in skimpy armor. She flicks her wrist to unmake reality, just the tiniest little bit, and–

And Susan has reached out and grabbed her by the hand and once more, Pam finds herself stopped in her tracks.

Pam is not bored anymore.

“Not,” Susan says authoritatively, “on the party ship.”

Pam stops. Pam thinks. Pam realizes she's still holding hands with Susan.

Pam makes an expert tactical decision.

“Come with me,” Pam says. “Together we rule entire known multiverse. Together we become invincible, unstoppable, queens of everything in creation.”

Susan looks at her, considering. “I don't know, man,” she says softly, “I have mad respect for your destruction thing but like, it's totally not my jam. I'm into like, parties.”

This is a fair objection. Pam takes a long moment to pore over all her options.

“Half destruction,” she says eventually. “Together destroy half of multiverse. Rule other half with iron party fist.”

Susan smiles at her. “Hell yeah,” she says simply, “That sounds like a totally fair compromise, my dude.”

“I do this,” Pam says, victorious, and sets the mast of the party boat on fire in celebration. Susan, equally victorious, puts the inferno out and then does a quick little dance, also in celebration.

Susan stares at her, tilting her head to the side, thinking, and then she takes a confident step forward and grips Pam’s face in her hands, kissing her firmly. It starts out brusque, as professional as a handshake, until Susan is slipping her tongue in pam’s mouth and pressing her distressingly toned body all along Pam’s. One hand stays cradling Pam’s jaw and the other slides down to wrap around the curve of her hip, thumb rubbing gently across the sharp jut of her hipbone, until Pam places a firm hand on Susan’s shoulder and pushes her away.

She thinks about asking directly what Susan’s getting at, but in the end she just levels a firm inquisitive stare at the other woman, and lets her facial expression do the talking.

Susan just shrugs at her. “Sealed with a kiss,” she says, as if that explains everything, and it very nearly does. 

“Plus, I’m technically also a sex goddess,” she adds on, and that explains the rest of it.

Pam is the unstoppable force meeting Susan’s immovable object; Susan is the first time she's ever been challenged, and she suspects she's also the first true challenge Susan has ever met. 

Pam sees a future stretch out in front of her where she’s not standing alone above the raging sea, not anymore. She sees a pair of silhouettes hovering above a collapsing ocean; she imagines two figures, arm in arm, supervising a backyard barbecue that’s going rather better than the ones she used to not be invited to.And she  _ likes  _ this imagined future. In fact, she wouldn't have it any other way. 

She holds her hand out and Susan takes it, decisively, and arm in arm they go, to bring destruction and delight to the entire known multiverse.

Somewhere very far away, a dead cockroach sheds a single lonely tear.

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY.


End file.
